Borrowed Time
by Rhianna-Aurora
Summary: BaschxPenelo Post-game, disregards RW. Friendship unexpectedly becomes more. But with Larsa thinking about marriage - and his heart set on Penelo - and a plot against Basch's life in the works, there is seemingly no hope for a happy ending.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: I do not own FFXII or any of the characters therein. Just having fun with them.**  
**_

_**Prologue**_

Vaan stepped out on the terrace where Penelo stood, adjusting the collar of his rust-colored tunic as he walked. "Man, the breeze out here is great! That ballroom is so hot! You know, if this party was in _Dalmasca_, the ballroom would have been hot, and the balconies outdoors would have been even hotter. Guess Archadia's got the weather goin' for it, at least." Penelo wasn't paying any attention, or so it seemed, so he went on. "It sure was nice of Larsa to throw this party for you."

"Mmm-hmm," Penelo replied absently, staring out over the city lights of Archades.

"So …" Vaan continued. "What's it like where _you _are?"

Penelo finally looked at him. "What? Oh." She smiled a little, her cheeks flushing almost imperceptibly. "I'm sorry, Vaan. It _was_ hot in there. I just … needed some air, that's all."

"You're telling me," Vaan grumbled, tugging at the tight, uncomfortable finery he'd been forced to wear this evening.

Penelo laughed. "Oh, but you look so nice!" she told him earnestly. "Lucky for you that Balthier's old clothes fit you."

"Yeah, real lucky," Vaan mumbled irritably. He didn't mind the _party _so much -- the food was good, and it was for _Penelo_ -- but he hated that it was such a _fancy_ affair. But he supposed if Penelo was enjoying it, he could endure for one evening. It was _her _birthday, after all. "So where _is _Balthier, anyway?" he asked. "I mean, Fran was here earlier …"

Penelo smiled dreamily. "In Dalmasca," she said quietly. It wasn't common knowledge, and she had no desire to start any rumors about her queen and a certain heroic Archadian sky pirate.

Vaan nodded then. "Oh, right." Then he grinned. "Who would've thought, huh? I guess good for them, though."

"I can always tell when he's been to see her … she smiles more. I'm surprised more people haven't caught on yet. But I suppose it's better that they don't," Penelo replied brightly. "It's very sweet, though."

"Does … Gabranth know about it?" Vaan said. Even after two years, it was still strange to call Basch by his brother's name.

Penelo stiffened at the name, but tried to hide it from Vaan. "I - I … Yes, he does."

Vaan's brow furrowed at Penelo's sudden stammering. "Is he mad about it or something?"

"No, no, of course not! I mean, at first, he wasn't … _thrilled_, but now …"

"So why are _you_ acting so weird?"

"I'm not!" Penelo said defensively.

"Your face is red," he pressed.

"It is _not_," she hissed, turning away from her old friend quickly. "And even it _is_, it's only because I am _hot_."

"Geez, turning nineteen has made you a cranky old hag," Vaan said jokingly.

Penelo whirled on him, mouth agape. "Did you just … you just called me a _hag_. An _old_ hag!"

Vaan held up his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I was only joking. You're not an old hag. But you _are _cranky."

Penelo sighed and brushed a stray tendril that had escaped from her fancy updo off of her face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you." She looked carefully at Vaan then. He was her oldest, dearest friend. Surely she could tell him _anything_, right? "Vaan, there's something I -- I mean, if I tell you something, you won't say anything, right?"

Vaan's blue eyes immediately turned serious -- almost concerned. "What's wrong, Penelo?"

She shook her head. "No … no, nothing's wrong, Vaan," she said quickly. "I mean, you know over the past -- eight months or so, I've been coming to Archades a _lot_, right? There's kind of a … reason."

"You mean _besides_ Larsa's big crush on you?"

Penelo felt her stomach churn slightly at the mention of Larsa. "Don't say that," she whispered to Vaan.

"It's true, though. Surely you've noticed. I mean, even _I've_ noticed …"

"Vaan!" Penelo snapped. "Of course I've noticed, but what I'm talking about has nothing to do with Larsa …"

But Vaan apparently wasn't listening. "He's what, fourteen now? I bet when he turns sixteen, he'll have to start thinking about getting married. Ashe said that's how it works with royalty …"

Penelo's face had gone chalk white, but Vaan didn't seem to notice. "Vaan, could you just _stop talking _for _two _seconds, please?" she said through clenched teeth.

"… Wow, Penelo. You could be an empress. I mean, it sucks that you'd be part of the Empire and all, but it's different now with Larsa, so I guess it'd be okay," Vaan continued, undeterred by his friend's growing ire.

"Vaan!" she yelled.

"Penelo?" Vaan finally turned to look at her. "You look kinda … sick. You all right?"

"I'm _trying_ to tell you something -- _something important_ -- and you won't be quiet and listen for _two seconds_! And now …" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Just forget it. I'm going back inside."

She left Vaan on the terrace, staring at her back in confusion. So caught up in his thoughts, he barely heard the footsteps as they approached, and he didn't turn to face his latest companion until the man spoke.

"Was that Penelo?" The familiar timbre caused Vaan to turn his head. Basch stood beside him, dressed in an outfit not unlike his own, except the tunic he wore was blue.

"It was," Vaan replied to him, somewhat dejectedly. "Why aren't _you_ with Larsa?"

Basch chuckled. "Oh, I can see him well enough from here. And you know, I'm not his only guard. Occasionally, I do get some time off."

"Right," Vaan said, feeling mildly stupid. "Are you enjoying the party, then?"

"As much as one can, I suppose," Basch replied. "Tell me, what did you say to make her run away like that?"

"I don't really know. I was just kidding around with her, about Larsa and how he'll have to start thinking about getting married soon … and she got real mad and took off." Vaan shrugged. "I don't understand women." He looked back at Basch, whose mouth was now set in a very firm line. "Hey, you look kinda like Penelo did before she took off …"

"Pardon me, Vaan. But I think Larsa might have need of me after all." He was gone without another word.

"Yeah. Nice talking to you … Gabranth," Vaan said to the man's retreating form sarcastically.

Basch scanned the crowd quickly, though it was not Larsa he sought. His eyes finally fell upon the tumble of flaxen curls as they ducked out of the ballroom and into a corridor. He quickened his step to catch her, and was very nearly out of the room when his young lord caught him up.

"Gabranth, may I have a word?" Basch just nodded, fearing that if he spoke, he might snarl at the interference. "I fear Penelo is not well. I know that she trusts you as I do, and will talk to you if something is troubling her. Will you speak with her on my behalf?" Larsa's eyes were imploring. Basch was his most trusted Judge, guard, and confidante, and he knew that Penelo, too, considered him a dear friend. They had been through much together, and Larsa would ask no one else to do this.

"Aye, my Lord," Basch said with a small bow. "Straight away."

He could see the relief in Larsa's eyes as the young man thanked him, and he immediately felt quite ill. "Forgive me," he muttered to no one in particular as he exited the ballroom.

He listened for the sound of heels clicking on the marbled floor, but only the muffled sound of a woman crying met his ears. His insides clenched at this. He so hated to see her unhappy.

He followed the sound to a small, seldom-used chamber. The room was cold, and lit only by one dimly flickering candle. She didn't hear him enter, and he took the opportunity to look upon her. She was wearing a ball gown in almost the same color blue as his tunic. Her hair was up in a pile of curls, and she wore the sapphires that Larsa had given her as a birthday gift around her neck.

His own gift to her was on the middle finger of her right hand, a simple silver ring fashioned in the form of a phoenix, the symbol of Landis. Nothing at all like the glittering blue jewels at her throat, but she had been overcome with emotion when he'd presented it to her.

She stood by the room's single window, eyes staring blankly out over the city. It wasn't until he closed the door -- loudly, forcefully -- that she jumped and turned to him.

It was a pitiful sight -- her face tearstained, her green eyes haunted. "Basch, I …"

"So is it to be tears and regret, then?" he said evenly, but not unkindly.

"Basch, please, just …"

"Just answer me." His tone left no room for argument.

She didn't say anything at first, but he saw her fingers run lightly over the ring and trace the outline of the bird. "We knew," she finally said. "We knew that this wouldn't -- _couldn't _-- work. And yet, we didn't stop it when we saw it happening."

"Could we have stopped it?" Basch countered. "Could you have -- honestly?" His voice was gruff with emotion.

She only shook her head. "No," she said wistfully. "And I wouldn't -- have wanted to. Even _if_ I could."

"Nor I," he confessed, and she finally smiled faintly.

She held out her hand to him, almost shyly, and he crossed the room and took it, raising it to his lips. It was a gesture that he'd done repeatedly over the last eight months. It started out as an innocent greeting; it now meant much more than that.

"Nothing is written in stone," he said to her, brushing the hair off of her forehead. "There's still time for us, I'd say."

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. It was a look that he knew would lead to his undoing, but he'd be damned if he cared right now. He kissed her, and she kissed him back, both of them needy and hungry for the other. She pushed him back, finally. "Not now, not now," she told him.

"Will you meet me later, then?" he asked, his hands framing her face, his thumbs brushing along her cheeks gently.

She smiled at him warmly, placing her hands over his. "You know that I will. In the garden, by the fountain."

He kissed her again, softly this time, and took his leave of her. She watched him go. For a little while, at least, they offered each other peace. That was all anyone could really ask for, wasn't it?

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed the prologue. The rest of the story will be told in flashbacks, so anything you're confused about now? Well, it'll all make sense later. Thanks for reading! XD**


	2. One: The Walk

_Disclaimer: I don't own FFXII or any of the characters, locations, etc. mentioned in this fic. Only the idea is mine.**  
**_

_**Chapter One**  
**The Walk**_

_Eight months earlier_

"Tell Larsa and Basch 'hi' for me," Vaan said as Penelo picked up her knapsack and stood up to leave the airship. "And tell them I'll visit soon."

Penelo just smiled. "All right, Vaan. I'll be sure to tell them that treasure is more important to you than old friends," she teased with a playful wink. "Larsa will understand. Tell Balthier and Fran 'hello' from me, as well."

Vaan nodded. "Will do. See you in a couple weeks."

"Have fun. You_ better_ come back with treasure, or I will be really upset with you." She paused just before she exited the cockpit. "And _don't you dare_ go pulling Balthier's trick, lying about how much treasure you _actually _got so you don't have to share so much. Fran will tell me the truth, you know she will."

Vaan made a face and grumbled. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Have fun, Penelo." He honestly didn't understand why anyone would choose to come to Archades instead of going treasure hunting, but Penelo had insisted. She hadn't seen Larsa since Ashe's coronation, nearly six months ago, and she had yet to visit Archades _at all_. She had also said something to him about "needing a break from you anyway." Whatever that meant.

She waved and continued on her way off of the airship. She stepped into the terminal of the Archades Aerodrome, and then knelt down, and began rustling in her bag for the last letter Larsa had sent her. It had the instructions to the Solidor estate, and she was sure to be hopelessly lost without them. Archades was even larger than Rabanastre, and that was saying something.

It was then that she heard the heavy footsteps behind her. A voice quietly said, "Penelo."

She turned her head and looked up. A man stood over her, dressed in full Judge Magister regalia. He wore a helmet, but Penelo didn't need to see his face -- hearing his voice was enough. Her face lit up in a wide smile. "What are _you _doing here?" she chirped.

"Lord Larsa bade me to come escort you back to the palace," Basch said firmly, not mirroring her happy tone. She immediately noticed the difference in the cadence and flow of his voice. It was less gruff, less gravelly than she remembered it, though when he had spoken her name, she had heard it. He leaned nearer to her and spoke very quietly. "You do not know me, remember?"

He was acting the role of Judge Gabranth, and Penelo quickly realized that she must do the same, at least while there were others around. "That was very sweet of him," she said seriously. "And you are?" She questioned, as though she were meeting him for the first time.

"I am Judge Gabranth," Basch said, not missing a beat.

"Lovely to meet you," Penelo said with a smile. "It was nice of you to come all this way. I'm sure you have much more important things to do today, being a Judge and all."

"I do as my lord wishes," Basch replied, constantly aware of the curious eyes of the Archadians.

What would they say_ now_, seeing him with Penelo? It would not matter to the gossip mongers that she was truly a friend of Lord Larsa -- no they would say whatever they thought would make the best story. And the streetears were _everywhere. _ One slip on either of their parts and word would spread about "Judge Gabranth" -- who was he _really_?

"Shall we go?" he asked her.

She nodded, and slung her small knapsack over her shoulder. "Yes, of course."

"Vaan is not joining us?" he asked in when they were out of the aerodrome.

Penelo shook her head, and smiled fondly. "No, not this time. He opted to go somewhere with the promise of _fantastic treasure_. Courtesy of newfound information on Balthier's part, of course."

"Ah, yes. I read your latest letter. How fares our leading man?"

Penelo took pause for a moment to register that Basch read the letters that she wrote to Larsa, and made a mental note to write to him personally from then on. "Oh, he's very well," she answered. "I mean, aside from the black eye." She was quite upset that his helmet hid his face, for she would've _loved_ to see his expression.

"There was a scuffle of some sort?"

Penelo bit back her laughter. "I suppose you could say that, yes."

"Was anyone else injured?"

"No, no one else was hurt. Except for maybe Balthier's pride -- which we all know is an entity all by itself." She heard Basch chuckle a little, and she went on. "It would seem that Her Royal Majesty has a mean right hook."

He laughed heartily at that. "I've only ever been _slapped _by her, but I can assure you that even _that _was no picnic." He grew quiet then. "She was far more distraught at his disappearance than I realized. I hope all is well now?"

Penelo jumped up on one of the ledges that lined the cobbled streets of Archades' Molberry district and began walking it as though she were walking a tightrope. "Everything's fine now," she said. "I think she felt much better after she hit him." She smiled down at him from the ledge, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

_She seems taller, somehow_, he mused as he looked back at her. Perhaps it was the way she carried herself now … she had grown up a lot over the past year, but she still seemed so very _Penelo_ at the heart of it all. He hoped in his own heart that nothing would happen to make that change.

Penelo was glad she'd been able to make him laugh. She had always, growing up, been the one to bring smiles to peoples' faces. She was just happy to see that even through the stress of this new position for Basch, he still maintained a bit of his humor. She didn't want him to lose that, she had appreciated his ability to laugh during their journey, even after all he'd been through. It had given her hope when there had seemed to be none.

"What other news of Dalmasca?" Basch asked.

Penelo looked back at him and sighed. "Unfortunately, not much. I mean, I'm sure Ashe might have some lovely political stories to tell you …" she wrinkled her nose before she continued. "But as far as the rest of us, Dalmasca has been very peaceful and quiet these days. Which I suppose is a good thing!" She laughed.

"Most would think so," he replied, amusement in his voice.

They turned a corner and entered the Nilbasse district, where the majority of the Archadian shops were located. Basch held out his gloved hand to help Penelo step down from the ledge.

"Thank you," she said, taking his hand in her own and hopping down. "Good to see the chivalry isn't gone," she added in a whisper.

"I can't very well have Lord Larsa's guest falling and breaking her neck on my watch. Wouldn't look very good at all," he quipped.

"Oh, I see. So you were just watching out for _yourself_," Penelo teased back. "Well, either way, it was nice. It's nice to be reminded that I'm a lady once in awhile. _Vaan_ never remembers."

"I could have him sent to Nalbina, if that is your wish," Basch told her good-naturedly.

Penelo's eyes widened in delight at the joke and she laughed merrily. He was … so _different_ now, away from the bounds of the duty he carried like a heavy mantle all the time. "I don't believe that will be necessary, but thank you for the offer."

It was then that she noticed that her hand was still in his. She pulled it away quickly, hoping that her face wasn't turning red. She hadn't even noticed, for their banter had been so comfortable. Obviously, he hadn't either, or he would surely have moved his hand before now.

When she removed her hand from his, he felt the most curious _empty_ sensation. He cleared his throat then and motioned her toward the sky taxi launch. "What?" she said cheerfully, hoping that things would not be uncomfortable now, for they had been going so well. "No private cab?"

"Laras's private airship awaits in Tsenoble," Basch informed her.

"Ah. Fancy," Penelo replied. "I was only kidding, anyway. I remember these cabs being the _only_ thing I enjoyed about our last visit here." Once they were inside the cab, Basch removed his helmet at long last. Penelo sighed. "Still short."

"I beg your pardon?" Basch asked.

Penelo giggled. "I'm sorry. I meant your hair -- it's still short."

Basch raised an eyebrow. "And this distresses you?"

She shrugged. "No, no. I just … I liked your hair longer, that's all."

He didn't really know what to do with that. Earlier, she had quickly removed her hand from his, as though she were embarrassed, but she didn't flinch at all when speaking so frankly to him just now. But then, Penelo never _had_ made much sense to him. One minute, she seemed quiet and serene, peaceful and childlike. And the next, she was bold and courageous, passionate and fiery, and not at all a child. He wondered, not for the first _or _the last time, who exactly this girl _was_. He thought that he would probably never really know. Why that thought should sadden him, he didn't understand.

"So how are things here?" she asked then, slightly uncomfortable by the long silence.

"Things are … well," he said. "Lord Larsa has settled into his role as Emperor quite nicely."

"And you? How does it feel, to be Gabranth?"

"It is fine," he said brusquely, and though she knew he was lying, she also knew better than to press the issue.

So she just nodded. "I'm glad to hear that," she replied, playing along. "We worry about you sometimes. I know that Ashe would be more than happy to have you join the Royal Guard --"

"I have my duties here," he nearly barked.

"Of course," Penelo said quietly. "I didn't mean to … I'm sorry."

"No, I should be the one to apologize," Basch said quickly. He felt the guilt creeping up over him, for taking out his current stressors on one such as her, who was not involved in any way. "I should not have snapped so at you. You have done nothing to warrant it." He smiled briefly, and reached over and squeezed her hand. "Larsa has been beside himself, waiting for this day. You have made quite an impression on him, I must say."

She smiled back, feeling the tension melting away. For now, they could talk about Larsa. When and if he wanted to tell her what was _really_ going on, she knew that he would. She _hoped _that he would trust her enough.

"He made quite an impression on me, as well. To think … I would come to Archades to visit a _Solidor_. That in and of itself is just …" she trailed off, unsure of the correct word.

"I understand all too well," Basch told her.

"Yes. I think that you do," she told him.

At the time, she didn't realize that she might someday mean that in more than one way.


	3. Two: The Emperor

_Disclaimer: FFXII is not mine. I'm not making any money off of this story, so please don't sue me. :)**  
**_

_**Chapter Two**_

_**The Emperor**_

Larsa could not for the life of him focus on the task at hand. He was supposed to be approving new tax levies, but the words seemed to be blurring on the pages before him, and he soon had to shove the pile of paperwork away in disgust. He looked out the window to the left of his desk, wondering if Penelo was in Archades yet.

"Forgive me, my Lord, but you _must_ approve and sign those before the day is up," said Judge Magister Galheim from her spot behind him. Larsa glared up at her from his chair. He had never really cared for the woman, and he cared for her less every time she opened her mouth and chastised him like a mother berating a naughty child.

Briony Galheim was one of Larsa's _five_ personal bodyguards -- a fact which made Larsa want to scream at the top of his lungs. He had no need of _five_. Two, perhaps _three_, would more than suffice.

His personal advisors, however, were sure that an emperor so young could not _possibly _be expected to care for and look after himself, and that he must _always_ have someone breathing down his neck or looking over his shoulder in some way. He was fourteen, not _five_, and though he'd brought up the fact that his father had been betrothed to his mother at the age of fifteen, it didn't seem to matter to them. Apparently, the sins of the father (and the brother), were being visited upon him.

It mightn't have been so bad, had he been allowed to choose his own guard, but his advisors didn't even seem to trust him with _that _task. He was no pushover, but he realized that the Solidor name had been quite sullied in recent years. He could only hope to try and rectify the situation as best he could, and that started with causing as little trouble as possible in his first year as Emperor.

But he was _not _his brother, and he wished that the Archadian government would realize that. Larsa Ferrinas Solidor was not going to wake up one morning and decide that complete world domination and/or destruction was a fantastic goal.

Nor was he his father. He had no desire for war, for bloodshed. He was a young man devoted wholly to peace, and he planned to stay that way. The Rozarrians loved him, and the few small kingdoms in between Archadia and Rozarria felt much the same way. Dalmasca, especially, was a valued and respected ally.

He glowered at Judge Galheim and tossed his quill aside. "And I _will _approve them before the day is up," he retorted, pushing his chair back from the desk and standing up.

"Where are you going, my Lord?" the older woman questioned him sharply.

"I am going for a walk in the gardens. Is that _quite_ all right with you, Judge Galheim?"

"Would you care for some company?" the Judge asked.

"No, I wish to be alone at the moment, thank you." Larsa hurried from the large office and made his way outside. It was far too nice a day to be cooped up inside, any way. Once he was outside, he took a deep breath to calm himself.

He wasn't usually so short with his guard -- though all but one of them tended to drive him completely batty on a _normal _day -- but today was important.

Penelo was coming today.

The thought made his irritation melt away, and he smiled. He had not seen her since Queen Ashe's coronation, over six months ago. She had been lovely and sweet as ever, and when he'd asked her to visit, she had accepted without hesitation.

And now, the day had finally arrived, and he knew she must be in the city by now. He hoped she wouldn't mind that he'd sent Basch to escort her, but he had so hated the idea of her walking the streets of the city unaccompanied. He would never say that to _her_, though. She might take it to mean that he didn't think she could take care of herself, and that wasn't the truth of it at all.

Besides, he knew that she and Basch had been friends, or at least on friendly terms, during the war. And she had not seen him since. Larsa knew she would enjoy seeing a familiar face upon her arrival, and since _he_ had been unable to get away, he sent his most trusted guard in his place. He certainly would not have sent the horrid Judge Galheim after her. Penelo would run screaming and never return to Archades in that instance.

The sound of laughter met his ears, then, and he quickly hurried to meet his guest as she came up the walk from the airship hangar. He saw her, walking in stride with Basch, her smile wide, her eyes shining, her laughter bright. Basch, too, was laughing, something that warmed Larsa's heart. It was so rare to see these days, and he knew that the man carried a heavy burden placed on him by his brother's passing. Larsa smiled to himself, knowing he'd made the right decision. It was good for old friends to catch up.

"Do you remember that time, in the Paramina Rift," Penelo was saying to Basch as they drew closer to him, "when Vaan slipped on the ice …" She giggled, unable to continue the story.

Basch's chuckle grew louder then. "Oh, yes, and he grabbed onto the nearest thing he could before he fell, which happened to be Balthier's leg …"

Penelo doubled over. "I've never heard so many … _colorful_ … phrases all at once in my entire life! Poor Vaan, I don't think he knew what he'd done! And Ashe … I thought she was going to pass out from trying not to laugh!" She wiped tears from her eyes as she remembered the image of Balthier's feet going over his head as Vaan had tried desperately not to fall on his backside. She looked away from Basch, and started to take in her surroundings.

It was then that she finally saw Larsa. Her grin broadened, if that were even possible, and her eyes lit up as she looked at him. _He's gotten tall!_ was her first thought. He was even taller now than he'd been six months ago, at Ashe's coronation. He now stood just as tall as she, and his shoulders were broader, as well. Penelo was beginning to see the makings of a very handsome young man peeking through his still-youthful appearance. The notion gave her pause for only a second, before she rushed the rest of the way to him.

"Larsa!" she cried. "It's so good to see you!"

He had barely had time to register her nearness before she had pulled him into a warm embrace. "Uh, I … Yes. It's good to see you as well, Penelo," he managed to say when she released him.

Her closeness had him feeling a little dizzy. This was a rather recent development, and to say it was unsettling was quite the understatement. Before, Penelo had been a good friend, someone he had connected with during a stressful time, and had enjoyed talking to. Now, however, he was noticing more. Things like how soft her skin was, and how nice her hair smelled. Or the way she was chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully …

"I - I trust you had no trouble getting here?" he said, quickly trying to shake himself from his reverie.

Penelo shook her head. "No, none at all … though I might've if you hadn't sent Ba - _Gabranth_ - for me." She cast a grin over her shoulder at the Judge. "Your city is so much bigger than I remember it being! Of course, _last_ time we only went as far as Draklor in -- is it Tsenoble?" She looked to Basch for confirmation, and he nodded. "Right. I had no idea that wasn't even _half_ of the city."

"There's much to see and do here. I will arrange for a tour for you," Larsa said, finally finding his voice again.

Penelo smiled at him. "That would be lovely." She turned her attention to the sprawling estate before her. "Oh, my. Your home is _beautiful_," she told him, genuine awe in her voice.

The mansion was only three stories high, but it stretched out over nearly two hundred acres of land. There was one main building, it appeared, taller than the rest, in the center, with two wings jutting off either side. All the buildings were made of a honey-colored brick, and there were what seemed like _hundreds _of windows along the front of the structure alone; all had been cleaned until they sparkled in the sun.

There was an inexplicable _warmth_ that radiated from it, and Penelo knew that had much to do with the current Emperor. Had she seen this place before, when Vayne was in charge, she was sure she would not have felt the serenity and peace she felt now as she looked upon it.

"Thank you," Larsa responded, pleased beyond reasoning that she felt that way. He wanted her to like his home, he wanted her to soon feel it was a sort of home for her, as well. "I've had a suite of rooms prepared for you, I - I hope they'll be to your liking."

Penelo blinked at this. "A _suite_? Oh, Larsa, one room would have been just fine!" she protested.

But he wouldn't hear it. "No, no. You're an honored guest, and I want you to have all the available luxuries."

"I guess … if you insist," she said after a long pause, smiling tightly. "I really don't want to be a bother." She hated to think that anyone was going out of their way to put her up in fancy accommodations. She'd lived in an old warehouse-turned-apartment in Lowtown for the past five years … a _sofa_ in the Solidor estate would have more than sufficed her.

Larsa's dark eyes were glowing warmly as he looked at her, and Penelo felt, for the first time since she'd known Larsa, a strange sense of disquietude. "You could _never_ be a bother, Penelo," he continued emphatically. "I want you to look upon the Solidor estate as your home."

Penelo's eyebrows knitted at that remark -- and at the look he was giving her. She recognized that look, but she'd never thought to see it directed at _her_. Especially _not _from Larsa Solidor. She quickly told herself that she must be mistaken, but a glance over her shoulder in Basch's direction made uncertainty form an uncomfortable, cold knot in her belly. His expression was one of unease, as though he felt like he were intruding on a private moment.

She knew that Larsa had always been quite taken with her, but it was always a sweet thing … a youthful, innocent infatuation. She supposed she'd taken for granted the fact that he would not remain a boy forever.

"Shall I show you to your rooms?" Larsa finally asked, after several long moments of silence.

Penelo shook herself mentally and managed a genuine smile at her friend. "Of course!" she said, hoping she sounded convincing. "Just one second." She walked back to where Basch stood. "It was so nice, talking to you again," she told him in a quiet voice. "And thank you, for getting me here in one piece. I really would have been completely lost without you today." She grinned in a self-deprecating manner.

"You give me too much credit," Basch said kindly. "You are more than capable of taking care of yourself."

Why that seemingly off-handed compliment should warm her so, she didn't know. "Well … I'll see you later!" she said, turning around and heading back to catch up with Larsa.

Basch held up his hand to bid her farewell as she headed into the estate with Larsa. She was a lovely girl -- no, young woman. And it was quite obvious that Larsa wished her to be more than just a friend.

He could only smile and hope that it would all work out for the best -- whatever that might be.

**A/N: And the LOVE TRIANGLE OF DOOM pretty much starts right now. :) Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!**


	4. Three: The Guard

_****__**Chapter Three**_  
**_The Guard_**

Supper at the Solidor estate was a nerve-wracking event, was the only thing Penelo could think. The food was _wonderful, _but she was afraid to eat too much, lest Larsa and the members of his household think her some ill-mannered commoner.

She had been surprised to learn that he had five personal guards, and that he insisted that they share their meals with him. Emperor he may be, but he didn't put on airs, which Penelo appreciated more than she could ever say. She did, however, feel a little bit like a rat in a cage, the way the guards eyed her warily.

Well, three of the guards eyed her, that was. Basch knew what she was about, of course. Every so often, he would look up at her and give her a reassuring smile, which helped, especially considering the _fifth _guard.

The fifth guard was a woman -- the _only _woman, in fact -- and Larsa had introduced her as Judge Briony Galheim. _She _looked tougher than all of the rest of the guards combined. Penelo put her age somewhere around forty, and secretly thought that she might've been pretty, if she didn't have such a _hard _look about her. Her mouth was set in what seemed to be a permanent scowl, and her eyes had an icy glint to them.

The first thing that came to Penelo's mind upon seeing those eyes was that they reminded her of _Ashe's _eyes. But then she realized that she was wrong. Ashe's eyes did have cool, steely determination, but they also had a world of compassion in them. Not Judge Galheim. There was not one bit of empathy for her fellow man to be found. And she was blatantly staring at Penelo, with that cold, calculating glare. Under normal circumstances, it would have made Penelo want to wriggle around uncomfortably.

No one spoke during the meal, save Larsa, who was full of news and happenings around Archadia. Penelo listened, deathly afraid to speak with so much scrutiny upon her, so she just nodded along enthusiastically, laughing at the appropriate times.

"My lord," Judge Galheim said about halfway through the meal, the only one who dared to interrupt. "Forgive me, but you haven't inquired about your -- _guest _-- at all. I'm sure we're all quite eager to hear more about her."

Penelo felt her face reddening. "There's not much to tell," she said quietly.

"Oh, I don't believe that for a second!" Judge Galheim said, her voice full of faux sincerity. "Lord Larsa has only told us that you are Dalmascan, and that he traveled with you during the war. Surely there is something _else _to you?"

"What … what would you like to know?" she asked.

"What of your family? What does your family _do _in Dalmasca?" Her tone suggested that she thought that nobody in Dalmasca worked for a living.

Penelo's mouth had suddenly gone dry, and she reached for her glass of water. She then heard Larsa's sharp intake of breath, and he turned to the Judge. "Judge Galheim, that is none of your concern right now. Penelo, you don't have to answer that." He touched her hand gently, and she managed a small smile of thanks.

"My lord, forgive me," Judge Galheim continued. "But I am merely trying to get to know your guest better. If she's to be spending time with us …"

"She is to be spending time with _me. _I know everything about her that I need to know, and that is all that _you _need know." Larsa's voice had a warning edge in it, and Penelo concluded that this was not the first time that he and Judge Galheim had locked horns.

"Of course, my Lord," Judge Galheim said in a low voice, focusing her attention back on her plate. She looked up after a few minutes, and Penelo knew something else had just come to her. Inwardly, she groaned as the Judge spoke. "Forgive me, my Lord, but you _will _have state duties to attend to, and she simply cannot be unaccompanied. It would be -- dangerous. She'll need a personal guard of her own whilst she's here."

Penelo didn't appreciate the fact that Judge Galheim was implying she might make off with the Solidor fortune while no one was looking.

"That has already been attended to," Larsa said wearily.

"In what way? You _are _going to insist she has a guard, are you not?"

Larsa looked heavenward, praying to any and all gods that would listen that a giant chasm would open up and swallow Judge Galheim whole. "Judge Galheim. This entire conversation is not suitable for supper. If you have something you wish to discuss, please, meet with me in my office chambers _after _our meal."

"Yes, my Lord." From the tone in her voice, Penelo knew that Larsa was going to be having a _long _meeting after supper.

The rest of the meal passed in relative silence, and Penelo was grateful for that. After the plates were cleared away, Larsa stood up from the table and beckoned for Penelo to follow him out of the room.

"I apologize, sincerely, for Briony," he said earnestly, his dark eyes searching her face as they walked down the long corridor. "You are not angry, I hope."

Penelo shook her head. "Of course not, Larsa. She is just doing her job."

"If it had been my choice, I would not have hired her," Larsa said quietly. "And I fear I will not be able to leave you unaccompanied, as she said. It isn't because I don't trust you. She will not let it go until she is satisfied that I have heeded her advice. And if I don't heed her advice …" He trailed off.

"_You're_ the Emperor, though," Penelo said.

"But my family has put Archadia -- nay, _all _of Ivalice -- through hell. I must rectify that, in any way that I can."

"So that's why … all the guards?"

"My advisors think it best," Larsa said. "And about your guard …"

"Whatever you have to do is fine. I understand," Penelo told him.

"It will be Gabranth," Larsa finished.

Penelo paused. "But … he's … _your _guard. Shouldn't you bring in someone else? Someone _not _in charge of guarding the Emperor?"

"If you hadn't noticed, I have _four _other guards. I will be quite fine, I assure you. I trust Gabranth implicitly. And you trust him as well. I do not want you ill at ease while you are here, I want you to be among friends. In cases of my absence, he will still be here."

Penelo was touched. "Thank you." She laughed. "He won't be upset, being temporarily demoted to guest guard duty?"

Larsa smiled and unlocked the door to his drawing room. "Hardly. He was quite anxious to see you again, himself."

"He -- he was?"

"You are always so surprised to learn that you've made an impression on people," Larsa told her fondly. "Why is that?"

"I guess because I rarely seem to be a dot on anyone's map," Penelo said, sitting down in a leather wing-back chair.

"You are too hard on yourself," Larsa told her, situating himself at his desk. "You're a good person, Penelo. Surely you don't think something like that would go unnoticed for long?"

Penelo didn't say anything. Instead, she looked around the room, noted the vaulted ceilings and the enormous windows lining the eastern wall. During the early day, the natural light in here would be perfect for drawing. She imagined Larsa spent a lot of time in this room. She stood and crossed to the window, looking out over the landscape. Off on the western edge of the property, she could see a stone wall, and at the end, what appeared to be a gate.

"What's over there, beyond that wall?" Penelo asked.

"The gardens," Larsa told her with a smile. "They are in full bloom now, I will have to make sure to show them to you before you leave."

"I would love to see them," she responded. "But why are they hidden?" she asked in a whisper.

He just continued grinning. "It's all part of their glory," he said. "You've truly never seen gardens such as these."

"The gardens at the Royal Palace in Rabanastre are pretty spectacular," Penelo told him. "Are you saying _yours _are better?"

"Infinitely. We have the capabilities of growing many more types of vegetation here," Larsa responded calmly.

Penelo shook her head in amusement. "Well, why can't I see them … now?" she asked.

Larsa looked up, noted that it was getting dark. But at night, the gardens were even _more _magnificent. He was certain she would love them. "Of course. You are the guest."

Penelo clapped. "Good! I'm anxious to see these _amazing _gardens of yours."

They made their way out of the room, and were walking down the corridor when Basch stopped them. "Forgive me, Lord Larsa," he said, bowing his head, "but Judge Galheim wishes to meet with you in your office. She's waiting there now."

Larsa sighed heavily. "Of course," he said. He looked at Penelo and smiled apologetically. "I'm so sorry," he told her. "I suppose you will have to wait until tomorrow to see the gardens."

"Oh," Penelo said. "It's fine. You have work to do, I understand. You're an Emperor, after all."

"Unless …" Larsa began. She had been so looking forward to seeing them. _His _work should not interfere with _her _enjoyment. "Gabranth can show you."

Penelo looked at him. "Larsa."

"I want you to be able to enjoy the grounds, with or without me, Penelo," he said sincerely. "You will show her the gardens, yes, Gabranth?" Basch nodded, and Larsa turned back to Penelo. "If I cannot show you something personally, I would hope that Gabranth would be the one to replace me."

"Larsa …" Penelo repeated, but didn't really know what she was trying to say, so she let the word hang in the air. There was something … odd … about the way Larsa had worded that last sentence. Something that bothered her, but she couldn't quite figure out why.

Basch bowed his head again. "Of course," he replied. He felt a strange sense of unease at the young Emperor's words, though he couldn't understand _why _it should bother him so.

"Then I will see you later, Larsa?" Penelo said tentatively.

"Of course. You'll have to tell me if my gardens are better than your Queen's," Larsa teased her.

Penelo grinned at him, and began walking ahead. Larsa motioned for Basch to wait. "I wanted to tell you … since Judge Galheim is insisting on Penelo having a guard, that that is to be you. I trust this is not a problem?"

Basch looked at the young emperor seriously, that sense of disquiet creeping up on him again. "If you are certain," he told him.

"I trust no one else with her well-being more than I trust you. You know each other, and she will be more comfortable with you. I want her to be happy here, Basch," Larsa said quietly, his voice almost wistful.

Basch nodded. "Of course," he responded, turning and walking down the hallway toward Penelo.

He remembered being young once. It all seemed so very long ago now. But he'd been much the same as Larsa, long, long ago.

He'd once looked at a girl the way Larsa looked at Penelo now … and watching Larsa, he wondered if _this _story would end better.

For hadn't his own story ended? Surely, there was no more to be written for Basch fon Ronsenberg. Basch was dead.

And the closest he would ever get to "romance" again would be to spend an hour in the gardens with the woman his employer adored.

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A/N: I know this wasn't SUPER EXCITING. But it's getting there, I promise! The next chapters will have a whole lot more stuff going on, and not just all this set-up. :p Thanks for reading, I hope you're enjoying it so far. The last sentence in this chapter is kind of important. ;)


	5. Four: The Garden

_**Chapter Four**_

_**The Garden**_

The night was cool, the breeze softly rustling the leaves of the trees as Penelo followed Basch down the pathway leading to the gardens. She would have preferred to walk alongside him, to talk with him, but the path was too narrow, with tall trees lining each side.

She swung her arms at her sides as she walked. Basch was no longer wearing his helmet, and she had seen the firm line his mouth had been set in as he'd walked past her. It took them only five minutes to reach the gate, and Basch produced a key from a small pouch at his waist. He unlocked the iron gate, and pushed it in, holding it for Penelo to pass through.

Penelo paused just inside the gate, her mouth agape. "Oh, my …" she breathed as she took in the sight before her.

There were three pathways, all made of the same polished lavender stone, all leading to a different location farther back in the immense gardens. Flowers were all around her, everywhere her eyes looked, of every color of the rainbow, spilling out onto the pathways, and vining up and around every visible banister, column, tree, and bench.

The path to the right led to what looked to be an orchard. Penelo could smell the apple blossoms and imagined sitting on one of the benches under the trees' shade and reading the afternoon away.

To the left, Penelo could see that the path seemed to snake on unendingly, through what appeared to be some sort of meadow, though she couldn't be sure in the moonlight. "What's back there?" she asked Basch.

"That is the path to the park," he told her. "It's where the Solidor family holds their ceremonies. Weddings and the like," he continued, walking forward to stand beside her.

"They don't marry in a cathedral?" Penelo asked, looking up at him.

"No, they prefer to be married on their own land," Basch explained. He decided not to go into the reasons behind it, not the least of which was the fact that the Solidors had a long line of hysteria and paranoia in their family tree. And that the tradition of being wed on their own lands stemmed from a Solidor daughter, nearly one hundred and fifty years earlier, who refused to leave her home, and therefore _had _to be married on the grounds. And that was just one of many tales …

"That's nice," Penelo said quietly, and Basch was instantly glad he hadn't revealed the rest to her.

"Larsa would be pleased to hear you say that," Basch said, trying to keep his voice cool.

Penelo looked away quickly, thankful for the darkness. "I didn't mean … I mean, I'm not …" She couldn't seem to form a coherent sentence, and she didn't know why. Taking a deep breath, she pushed on. "I'm not interested in marrying Larsa." She laughed to show how absurd the idea was to her. "And … he knows that. We're _friends_. And I don't have any plans to get married any time soon. I'm starting to actually enjoy the sky pirate lifestyle."

Basch held her gaze for a long moment, his dark eyes searching hers for … what, she didn't know. She managed to break the eye contact, and turned back to the gardens before her.

The path directly in front of her led straight back for what seemed to be nearly half a mile before it reached _another _locked gate. "What's back there?" she asked, thankful to have found something else to talk about.

Ever since she'd arrived here, she'd been feeling uncomfortable. Larsa was no longer the young boy she remembered so fondly; instead he was becoming a young_man_, and looking at her in such a way that she couldn't help but be concerned.

Basch motioned for her to follow him, and he led her back to the gate. He retrieved another key, and opened the second gate. "This place is quite sacred to the Solidors. I do not think Larsa would object to _you _seeing it, though."

Penelo's eyes widened at the sight before her. There was an enormous fountain, with a breathtakingly beautiful statue atop it, depicting a young woman staring dreamily into the pool of water, while a knight stood behind a tree, watching her.

The imagery was familiar to Penelo, it was from one of her favorite stories as a girl. It was an old Archadian myth that her mother used to tell her. It was about a young Queen who had fallen in love with one of her husband's knights. They had met secretly in the royal gardens until the day came that they were discovered by the King himself, and ordered to be put to their deaths for their treachery. There were many different retellings of the story, some ended happily, with the knight and Queen alive, but not together, and some ended with them dead.

Penelo had preferred the "happy" ending as a child, but as she'd gotten older, she realized that it wasn't really happy at all. Even if the knight and the Queen lived … they weren't together, and that was sadder to her than death. Maybe she was too much of a romantic. Her mother had always told her that she was.

She walked closer to the fountain and examined the statue from several angles, taking in the details and the craftsmanship.

"You recognize it?" Basch asked after several moments, his tone surprised. He thought no one outside of Archadia knew the story.

Penelo looked up and nodded. "My mother used to tell me the story. She thought the Queen was a bit of an idiot, though." She laughed a little.

"You don't agree?"

Penelo sighed. "I think she just … fell in love. And did whatever she had to do for it. I don't think that I would call that idiocy."

"What would you call it then?" Basch asked, finding that he was genuinely interested in what she had to say.

Penelo looked up at him then. "Necessity," she said without thinking. She looked away then, her cheeks burning. "I just mean, the sort of love that the Queen had with the Knight … well, it doesn't happen often. I feel bad for everyone involved, but I also can't help but want it all to be okay for them in the end. For them to just be able to be together somewhere."

She walked over and stood on the side of the fountain nearest the Knight. "I always felt the worst for _him_, though," she confessed quietly, plucking a pretty pink flower from the tree nearest her.

"Why is that?" Basch asked her.

"It's not his fault that he wasn't born a king. And even in the 'happy' ending, he doesn't get what he wants. Part of me wonders if he doesn't wish he had just been killed," she replied, twirling the bloom between her fingertips.

She sat down on the edge of the fountain and continued to fidget with the flower. Basch filed away the knowledge that she seemed to have a hard time just sitting still. "So. Why is this place, above all others, so important to the Solidors?" she asked after a few moments.

Basch debated on whether or not to tell her the story, for he knew it well enough. But there were some things, he knew, that Larsa should share with her about his family, when he deemed the time right. "You should ask Larsa about it sometime," he finally said.

Penelo nodded. "I will," she said. She looked at him thoughtfully. "Can I ask you something?"

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "What?" he asked, warily.

"You looked concerned when you told Larsa that Judge Galheim wanted to talk to him. Almost like … you didn't want to leave him."

Basch waited for her to continue, and when she didn't, he took a deep breath. "That wasn't a question," he told her.

Penelo shrugged and looked down at the blossom in her hand. "I haven't been here long, and it isn't really my place, but … I don't really get a good feeling from her."

This gave Basch pause. During their journey two years ago, Penelo had always been highly perceptive. She was the first to know that Larsa was someone they could trust, and the first to know when something just didn't seem quite right. And she was nearly always right. But he also must take into consideration the fact that Judge Galheim had been unkind to Penelo at supper. Perhaps that was part of it.

He noticed that she was absently picking at the bloom in her hands, pulling the petals off systematically, though she didn't seem to be aware of her actions. He held out his hand and stopped her from completely destroying the flower.

"You don't either," she said bluntly, looking up at him when their hands touched, seeing his expression. "You wished you hadn't left Larsa alone with her. Basch, _what _is going on here?"

"This is not the time nor the place for this discussion," he said sharply, pulling his hand away from hers.

Penelo stood up. "It's the _only _time and place, Basch," she hissed. "No one's around. And if you or Larsa are in some kind of trouble, then you shouldn't …"

"It's none of your concern," he said forcefully and Penelo winced ever-so-slightly at the anger in his voice.

"You and Larsa are of concern to me! And to the rest of us," she shot back at him. "We worry about you."

"You shouldn't. We are perfectly capable of handling things here," Basch told her, struggling to calm himself.

"I didn't say that you weren't," she said quietly. "I just wish you'd realize that you don't _have _to do it all by yourself." She looked him straight in the eyes, her mouth set in a firm line. "There's something wrong here, and if you think I'll just let it go, you really don't know me very well at all."

Inwardly, he flinched at bit at her words, because he knew them to be true. He knew that if she wanted to, she would find out everything that had been going on this past year, and he wanted so badly to keep her from it all. But more than that, it was what she had said _after_that had concerned him most.

_You really don't know me very well at all … _It was truth. And yet … he wished it wasn't.

"Penelo," he began, looking at her seriously. Concern filled her green eyes. _Not emerald, _he noticed then. _More like jade … _His brow furrowed again. Where had _that _come from? And why couldn't he remember what he'd started to say?

"It's okay," she told him after the silence between them became almost uncomfortable. She mistook his silence for annoyance, and responded in kind. "You don't have to tell me anything. I trust you, even if you don't seem to trust _me_." There was hurt in her voice, he heard it, and it wounded him. She was a _friend_, of _course _he trusted her.

But he wasn't given a chance to respond, for she had already turned and headed back down the pathway toward the manor. Something about the way she moved told Basch that she didn't wish for him to escort her back.

It was the least he could do, for now. He only wondered how long he could go without telling someone of his suspicions about Judge Galheim. He didn't want to worry Larsa, he had enough to concern himself with now.

Perhaps he should talk to her about it. She was intelligent, and she might be able to see things about the situation that he could not.

He wasn't ready to admit, not yet, that he'd enjoyed simply talking to _her_.

He told himself instead that it was only that today had been the first day in a very long time that he had talked to someone who was not deeply entrenched in political intrigues, the first time in a long time that he'd been able to forget, at least for awhile, that someone might be after his life. It was the first time in over a year that he'd been able to converse with a _friend_.

He looked down then, and saw that he still held the flower she had been toying with earlier in his hand. With a sardonic chuckle, he tossed the bloom over his shoulder and into the fountain behind him.

**A/N:** Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out! I've been bitten by the inspiration bug, though, so hopefully these updates will be a lot quicker from now on! I hope you can all figure out from the myth/legend included in this chapter where this fic is heading. ;)


	6. Five: The Complications

_**Chapter Five**_

_**The Complications**_

Penelo woke the next morning, feeling quite chagrined. Her behavior the previous evening in the gardens had been inexcusable. Basch did not _owe _her anything. No explanations, nothing. Just because they had been on friendly terms during the war did not mean that she had the right to demand that he tell her _everything_ that was going on in his life now.

Vaan often told her she was too nosy for her own good, and she had laughed at that. It was the epitome of the pot calling the kettle black. But after her recent behavior, she couldn't help but to think that Vaan was probably right. She hated when that happened.

The following day, Larsa had taken her on a tour of the rest of his family's estate, which was much larger than Penelo had previously thought. There was, of course, the airship hangar, and there were also chocobo stables, a riding arena, and several courts and fields for various games that Penelo had only ever read about. Larsa promised to teach her some of them, and she had been warmed by the eagerness in his eyes, so she had agreed, though she was sure to be terrible at the sports.

The day was so pleasant, that she had almost been able to ignore Judge Galheim at supper, when she made her snide comments about "propriety of dress in Archadia." She had started to insult the Dalmascans sense of decency, when Larsa had put an abrupt stop to the conversation.

The next day, Larsa was kept busy in his office tending to important state duties, so Penelo was left to her own devices. Her first order of business had been to apologize to Basch for her rude behavior. He had simply brushed it aside, telling her not to worry about it. But there was a coolness in his eyes now that caused a knot to form in her stomach.

"You could tell me, you know," she said quietly as they sat in the library later that day. She looked up from the book she had been perusing, suddenly unable to keep it to herself any more. "Even if you don't want my help … maybe it would make you feel better to just … tell someone."

She expected that he might snap at her again, but instead, he just sighed. He placed a marker in the heavy tome he was reading and looked at her seriously. "Even if I could," he said gravely, "this would not be the place for it. I would not want to trouble Larsa, for one." He looked around, and she understood that he did not wish to be overheard.

Penelo crossed the room and sat down beside Basch on the sofa. "So whatever it is … it doesn't involve him? Or you just don't want him to find out about it?"

"It does not involve Larsa directly, no," Basch conceded.

Penelo was relieved to hear that the emperor was not in any immediate danger, but it didn't abate her fears at all. She reached out and put her hands on Basch's arm. "Are _you_ in trouble?" she whispered frantically. He didn't look at her, and she grew frustrated. She placed her hand on his cheek and turned his face to hers. For a split second, he wanted to tell her, he wanted someone _else _to know the turmoil he'd gone through since his arrival in Archades over a year ago. And he could think of no one else he would trust more than she.

"You don't understand," he finally said hoarsely.

"You could _help_ me understand," Penelo had responded cautiously.

"It is better that you do not know." It was true. The fewer people who knew what he knew, the better. He could not live with himself if he endangered another person, especially if it turned out that his suspicions were erroneous. "It is nothing I cannot handle. You should not worry so much about _me_."

She looked at him for a long moment, her hand still on his face, her eyes searching his for answers that she desperately wanted to find. She couldn't stand knowing that _something_ or _someone_ was causing him such distress, and knowing there was nothing she could do to help him. Knowing that he didn't _want_ her to do anything to help.

She had been the mage, the healer during their journey. It was just in her nature to want to fix what was broken. And Basch … he was obviously broken. But this time, she didn't think her adeptness at white magick would help her one little bit.

The rest of the week passed with only the barest amount of conversation between Basch and Penelo, and she lamented the fact that she had pushed too far, too fast and caused him to withdraw from her.

The day she was meant to leave Archades, she had only one goal in mind. To make sure things were set to rights with Basch before leaving. She would hate for their relationship to continue to be stiff and formal every time she came to visit.

She woke that morning, vowing that she would not leave Archades until she had managed to get Basch to smile again, at least once. Vaan could sit at the aerodrome and _wait. _She wasn't leaving until she was sure things were all right again.

With a sigh, she padded barefoot across the thickly carpeted floor and into the adjoining bathroom. She very much enjoyed the ornate marble tub and all the sweet-smelling soaps and oils that were arranged carefully along the matching marble countertop.

She turned the faucet on the tub, and, after sniffing a few of the assorted toiletries, she settled on the neroli oil and added some to the running water. The smell reminded her of the orange groves in Balfonheim during their journey.

She remembered having a conversation with Basch about the way the town smelled when the breeze blew in from a certain direction. He had informed her that it was the orange blossoms from the orchards on Reddas' property, and had admitted a certain fondness for the aroma himself, for there had been many orange groves in his homeland of Landis.

Ever since then, it had unconsciously been a scent she had gravitated toward, though it was hard to come by in Dalmasca. She wondered if Larsa would mind terribly if she took a bottle back home with her. She made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Sighing, she untwisted her long blonde hair from the braids that she had worn the previous day, and then proceeded to run a brush through her wavy tresses. By the time she finished that task, the tub was full enough for her to immerse herself in the wonderfully warm and fragrant water.

She languished in the water for what seemed like an exorbitant amount of time, but she couldn't seem to make herself move any faster. It wasn't until she noticed the water was getting cold and her fingers were wrinkly before she pulled herself out of the tub grudgingly.

She quickly dried off with one of the oversized, fluffy blue towels from the cabinet below the sink, and dressed in a simple but conservative outfit of pink trousers and an off-white blouse, trimmed in gold.

She wasn't satisfied that the outfit did not show _too _much unnecessary skin. The earlier barbed comments from Judge Galheim still rested uneasily on her mind. Dressing in Archades _was _much different than dressing in Dalmasca, she conceded, and she made a note to purchase some more "appropriate" attire soon.

She didn't want to give up any part of who she was, but she also did not want to force Larsa to answer difficult questions about his "tarty friend". The idea made her laugh a little to herself, at first, but then she remembered the scrutinizing glare of Judge Galheim over the previous evenings, and her resolve was set. If she was to spend time in Archades, she would try her best to not stand out too much. She didn't need to give Briony Galheim any more reason to dislike her.

She had just started to pull her hair up into her usual braids, when there was a knock at the door. Blowing out a frustrated breath, she abandoned the task and let her damp hair fall around her shoulders and down her back like a pale, silken curtain.

She bounded across the room and stubbed her foot on the corner of the four-poster bed. "Ouch!" she yelped, grabbing the afflicted foot and hopping around, hoping the throbbing in her toe would stop soon.

"Penelo?" The voice on the other side of the door made her heart speed up involuntarily. "Penelo, are you all right?" He sounded extremely agitated.

"I'm … fine!" she managed to hiss out, lowering herself to the floor so she might inspect the damage more closely. "I'll be right out, okay?"

Of course he didn't listen. He opened the door quickly and took in the sight before him, his sword already drawn.

"Um," Penelo began, her eyebrow quirked in amusement as she looked up at him. "Are you planning on attacking me?"

"You sounded as though you were in pain," Basch said quickly, re-sheathing his sword in embarrassment.

"I am," Penelo said truthfully, holding out her foot. "Completely self-inflicted, though. I … tripped." She gestured toward the bed offhandedly, feeling a blush creeping onto her face. She was _supposed_ to be graceful.

Basch assessed the situation for a few moments, before lowering himself to the floor beside her. He was only able to drop to one knee, however, in the heavy Judge's armor that he wore. "May I?" he asked carefully.

"Sure," Penelo said, suddenly very thankful she'd spent the extra time in the bath this morning. At least her feet would not offend his senses. The whole idea was absurd and she started giggling as she held her leg out in front of her.

She flinched suddenly at the cold metal of his gauntlets against her bare foot, and he made an irritated face before removing the offending garments and setting it down on the floor beside him gently.

His left hand wrapped around her right calf, and, since he was unable to be at her level, he pulled her closer to him. Penelo bit her lip at the sensation of his rough, callused fingertips against her smooth skin and hoped that he would think it was just the pain in her foot that caused that reaction.

"Sorry," he apologized, and Penelo inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. She _sincerely_ hoped he couldn't hear the pounding of her heart at that moment. It was _deafening_ to her. She wasn't sure, when, exactly, the idea of Basch touching her had become such an _appealing_ one. Maybe it had been appealing all along, and she was just now realizing _how much_.

His hand still on her calf, he began to examine her afflicted foot. He dutifully ignored the fact that her skin was sinfully soft, and that she smelled like _home_ to him, and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. He was mortified beyond all reason to find himself wishing he could run his hands along the long, shapely leg that he was now holding onto.

She sucked in her breath as his hand moved over her foot gently. She'd never been lucky or pampered enough to have a foot massage before, but if it was anything like _this_, she could definitely see herself getting used to it.

Her almost blissful trance was broken as his fingers touched the toe that had received the brunt of the damage. "Oh!" she cried out. "Ouch," she then whimpered, hating herself for her weakness. _Why_ couldn't she just be strong, like Ashe? "Is it broken?" she asked in a pitifully weak voice.

"I don't believe so," he said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. "I think you will be just fine." He smiled at her reassuringly.

"Well, that's good, I suppose," she managed to breathe. He hadn't released his hold on her leg yet, and her skin was burning where his fingers touched.

"What was your hurry, if you don't mind me asking?" he said, and Penelo could hear the amusement in his voice.

"_You_!" she told him indignantly. "What are you doing, knocking on my door so early? No, wait. What are you doing, knocking on my door _at all_?" She raised her eyebrows at him, and he chuckled.

"Larsa is stuck in meetings all day, and will be unable to accompany you to the aerodrome today," Basch told her. "And I've been sent in his stead, of course."

"Of course," Penelo responded glibly. "He's very busy, isn't he?" she added thoughtfully.

"The work of an emperor is never done," Basch contributed. "He told me to inform you that next time, he hopes to be a better host to you. He sends his apologies that you had to spend so much time with a Judge Magister," he managed to finish the sentence with a straight face.

Penelo grinned impishly. "Be sure to tell him that I had a good time, and I look forward to coming back," she said, leaning forward and lowering her voice ever-so-slightly. "Even if it means spending time with a Judge Magister."

They looked at each other for a long, uninterrupted moment. The air suddenly seemed heavier in the room to her. She wondered if he noticed it as well, or if it was just her raging insanity showing itself again. Or perhaps it was just the fact that his hand was still on her leg, and she was all too aware of that tiny little detail. But the detail suddenly didn't seem so tiny any more. It seemed _huge_.

She didn't know what it meant, or why she was all of a sudden hyper aware of him, but she _was_. And the complications that could potentially arise from this newfound awareness were seemingly insurmountable.

She broke the eye contact first, knowing that if she didn't look away, she would do something she would regret later. She was a creature of impulse, and she couldn't allow herself this particular impulse right now -- or _ever_.

Clearing her throat she blew out a long breath. "Um, do you think, uh, could you … help me up?" she stammered, feeling more the idiot with every passing second.

Basch looked confused for a moment. "Oh, right. Yes, of course," he said, and quickly stood up. He held out his hand to Penelo. She grasped his wrist with both of her hands and pulled herself up.

As soon as she put weight on her injured foot though, she yelped in pain and stumbled forward, against Basch's heavily armored form. He caught her by the shoulders and steadied her. "Careful," he said softly. He took a deep breath and caught the scent again, the one that made him think of Landis.

He looked at her then, trying to discern what it might be. There was the faintest blush on her cheeks and she was looking at the ground, as though she were embarrassed by her stumble. He noticed then, that her hair was not in its usual plaits, instead, it was hanging freely about her shoulders. He couldn't resist letting one long strand of it slide through his fingers before releasing her.

"S-sorry," she stammered, straightening herself out as she stepped back. "I guess it hurts a little more than I expected." She didn't know what to say now, the room was suddenly claustrophobic to her. "We should go. Vaan gets impatient if he has to wait for too long."

"Of course," Basch said with a small bow in her direction.

Penelo quickly gathered her things and slipped her shoes onto her feet gingerly, wrinkling her nose at the sharp pain in her right foot as she did so. Basch immediately reached out, but then pulled back as soon as he realized she was okay.

"Are you ready, then?" he asked her, and she nodded.

They turned to the door, and saw Larsa standing there. Penelo smiled brightly. "Larsa! I -- thought you were busy all day? Meetings or something?"

"Yes, I am supposed to be. But I insisted that my eleven-thirty meeting be moved to this afternoon. I wasn't able to escort you when you arrived because of work, and I felt terrible about it. I have to put my foot down at some point." He smiled easily, and Penelo could see no malice or ill-intent in his hazel eyes.

"Oh. Okay," she said breezily, though she had to admit, she was slightly disappointed to be missing out on the trip into Archades proper with Basch. She turned to the Judge and smiled tentatively. "Thank you for your company this week," she said. "It was so nice seeing you again."

"Likewise," Basch replied.

"I'll write you," Penelo promised, and then her brow furrowed. "Will you … write me back?"

"I will," Basch told her.

She smiled then, a bright, dazzling smile. "Okay. I'll see you … sometime. Hopefully soon."

"Have a safe journey back to Rabanastre," he said.

Penelo's eyes suddenly filled with emotion and she crossed the room to him. "I don't know what's going on here, but _be careful_," she hissed into his ear. "You better be here next time I visit," she finished, giving his hand a quick squeeze before she turned and headed back to Larsa's side.

She wouldn't see Basch again for over two months.

**A/N: **Longest chapter yet! I hope you guys like it. Thanks to everyone who is reading this, it means a lot to me!


	7. Six: The Correspondence

_**Chapter Six**  
**The Correspondence**_

_Gabranth,_

_(It is SO strange to write that …) _

_You'll be happy to hear that my foot is much better now. And it only took a month to heal. You know, I think you were wrong. The toe WAS broken, I'm sure of it! _

_Of COURSE, Vaan had to go and tease me about it the whole way back to Rabanastre. Sometimes I wonder if he'll EVER grow up …I appreciate that YOU were a grown-up about it, though. Haha._

_I missed Rabanastre while I was gone. Sure, I was only in Archades for a week and a half, but still … I guess the desert of Dalmasca is where I belong. Oh, but don't think I didn't enjoy visiting, I did! And I cannot wait to be invited back. _

_But really, next time Larsa visits Rabanastre, you should accompany him. Ashe would love to see you, I know. You know, her birthday is coming up … of course there will be a party. __You should come._

_Oh! Speaking of Ashe and her party! I've managed to find work (aside from helping out Migelo, of course), in between my "travels" with Vaan … Ashe has put me in charge of the Royal Dance Troupe. Can you believe that? ME! Her party will be our first performance of any real importance. I have my work cut out for me, that is for sure. I don't want to let her down …_

_Well, I hope Larsa isn't making you work too hard! Write me back, when you get the chance._

_SINCERELY,  
Penelo_

**Penelo,**

**Do not worry. No one is reading my mail over my shoulder. As long as the letters are addressed to "Gabranth", all else is fine.**

**I am glad to hear that your foot has healed, and that you will not be suffering permanent damage. I was quite concerned that it might need to be amputated.**

**Larsa received his official invitation to Ashe's ball, and he is planning the trip even as I write this. It is not yet decided if I will accompany him. Judge Galheim is quite interested in seeing Dalmasca for herself.**

**Pleased to hear that all is well with you, and with Rabanastre.**

**Regards,  
Basch**

_Basch,_

_Very funny. Amputation, indeed. If I could stick my tongue out at you via letter, well … just know that I am. Sticking my tongue out at you. Right now, as I write this._

_Oh, please do not tell me that that … WOMAN is seriously considering coming with Larsa to Ashe's fete! You must INSIST on accompanying him … for my sake! (Oh, and Ashe's, of course.)_

_Why the sudden interest on her part? I thought she thought us all disgusting commoners or something. Is it just to keep YOU from visiting? __I wish you'd tell me what's really going on there …_

_Please, please, PLEASE, Basch. Come to Rabanastre._

_Sincerely,  
Penelo_

**Penelo,**

**I've told you before, you needn't worry yourself with Archadian affairs. There is nothing going on here that should concern you.**

**Now, tell me more about this dance troupe of yours.**

**Regards,  
Basch**

_Basch,_

_You're set on not telling me a thing, aren't you? Fine, have it your way. As long as you aren't in any trouble …_

_The dance troupe, well, where to begin? Some of the girls are very very good. Others … oh, well they're simply HOPELESS, Basch, but I can't possibly TELL them that! It's given me quite a few sleepless nights, I'll tell you that much. I know that Magda is trying, so hard, but she's got two left feet, and I'm afraid for our safety sometimes! The poor girl falls over EVERYTHING, even AIR._

_But she wants so much to impress Ashe, and she's so earnest. I've decided to try and work with her, one and one. Perhaps it's just nerves. If it's not, then I'm going to have to find some way to let her go … nicely._

_You don't suppose Ashe meant to PUNISH me with this job, do you? I wonder if I've offended her in some way …_

_Will you please put me out of my misery and tell me whether or not you'll be at the fete? As much as I'd hate for you to witness my impending humiliation, it WOULD be nice to have a friendly face there._

_Sincerely,  
Penelo_

**Penelo,**

**Larsa will be there. Is his face not "friendly" enough?**

**It seems that Judge Galheim is set on visiting Rabanastre, so I shall not make it to this particular fete. My deepest apologies to both you AND the Queen. I have every faith that everything will go off without any major complications for you.**

**Regards,  
Basch**

_Basch,_

_Of course Larsa's face is friendly enough. I wasn't implying that it wasn't, not at all._

_Is there something wrong with wanting to see you, as well? We ARE friends, aren't we?_

_Besides, I'm only going to be MORE nervous knowing that that HORRID WOMAN is going to be watching my every move. She hates me, you know. Didn't you hear what she called me my last night in Archades?_

_I'm very sorry that you won't be able to make it. Ashe will be so disappointed._

_Hope to see you soon._

_Fondly,  
Penelo_

**Penelo,**

**What was it she called you? "Tarty", I believe it was, yes? I wouldn't let it concern you overmuch. The woman is bitter, and doesn't know you at all. If she did … she'd never think to say such things. You are nothing if not extraordinary.**

**Regards,  
Basch**

_Basch,_

_Thank you. Your last letter … it made me feel much better about everything._

_I had to let Magda go. It was horrible, but the girl is just hopeless. She is not a dancer. BUT she is a skilled seamstress, and so she is making our costumes. I've seen the patterns, and they are lovely. I wish you could see them._

_Won't you PLEASE reconsider? Just because Judge Galheim is coming … there's no reason you can't come too! All sorts of bad things could happen to Larsa in a city such as Rabanastre … wouldn't it be better to have TWO guards with him? I'll mention it to Larsa in my next letter._

_Basch. Come to Rabanastre. Forget the fete, forget Larsa, or Judge Galheim, or even Ashe. Come to Rabanastre because I am asking you to. Please._

_Fondly,  
Penelo_

_Basch,_

_I feel silly writing this … but you haven't written me in over two weeks. __I miss your letters.__ I'm worried._

_Did I say something wrong in my last letter?_

_Is everything okay?_

_Penelo_

_**Dearest Penelo,**_

_**I am quite looking forward to seeing you in two weeks time, at Queen Ashe's Birthday fete. Judge Galheim will be accompanying me. Not by MY choice, you understand, but the woman would not have it any other way. She WILL be on her best behavior, though, of that I can assure you.**_

_**Why did you not tell ME that Lady Ashe put you in charge of the Royal Dance Troupe? No matter, I'm sure it simply slipped your mind. Writing so many letters, I can only assume that you forget to whom you've told what. **_

_**I cannot wait to see you perform at the fete … you've always danced so beautifully.**_

_**Basch sends his highest regards, and again apologizes that he will not be able to make it to Rabanastre.**_

_**Until then  
Love,  
Larsa**_

_Dear Larsa,_

_I'm looking forward to seeing you at the fete, as well! Only six days to go. This letter might not even reach you in time! _

_We in the troupe have been working very hard. I should think, after this party business is over, it will be high time for me to go treasure hunting with Vaan. I haven't been in the airship for so long, now, and Vaan is starting to feel like I've abandoned him! _

_Do tell Basch that we're all still very sorry that he won't be attending._

_Until Saturday!  
Love,  
Penelo_

* * *

**A/N: **Yeah, this chapter's a bit different. It's just my way of setting up the next events in the fic without a whole lot of exposition, which can get PRETTY boring. :p_  
_


	8. Seven: The Fete

_**Chapter Seven**_

_**The Fete**_

Rabanastre was a changed city. People wandered the streets freely, and buzzed excitedly about the Lady Ashe's party. There were smiles, no matter where he looked. Not one person stopped to look at him as though he were a traitor. His name might forever be linked with "treachery" in the history books, but his face, it appeared, was not.

The air was hot and dry here, and carried with it the tangy scent of spices almost unheard of in Archades. For several moments after stepping out of the aerodrome at the Westgate, Basch just stood and took it all in. No air was sweet to him as Dalmascan air, that was fact. Even after everything that had happened, to him, Dalmascan air was freedom.

Yet -- he should not be in Rabanastre right now. Of that fact he was _abundantly_ certain. He knew that were he to be discovered, it would make things all the more difficult. But he did not _trust_ Judge Galheim any more than _she _apparently trusted _him_. And he was not willing to take the risk.

Briony Galheim could wreak her own special brand of havoc in Dalmasca were she of a mind to. And there was no way to know what might put her in such a mindset. No, he absolutely could not take that chance. Not when so many people precious to him were involved.

He had yet to figure it all out, but there was _something_ about his mere existence that seemed to aggrieve Briony greatly. It was disconcerting, the withering way the woman looked at him all the time. He did not fear her, but there was something about her that seemed -- unstable. Unpredictable. And unpredictable people could be the most dangerous of all. If he didn't get to the bottom of it, and _soon_, he truly feared he might go mad.

There was also another reason for his presence in the tiny desert kingdom, but he was unwilling to think on it for too long, lest he have to come up with reasons for feeling that way.

He was not ready to give reasons.

He stayed in his room at the inn adjacent to the Sandsea until the sun had set. He wanted to be sure that Ashe's party was well underway, and crowded with people, before he arrived. He wanted no undue attention. Lord Larsa and Judge Galheim must not know of his presence.

He made his way into the royal ballroom amidst a crowd of latecomers. He kept to the back of the room, pressing himself into a corner unassumingly, trying his damndest to remain inconspicuous -- just another guest at the fete. No one of consequence.

From his vantage point, he could see Ashe's throne atop the slightly raised platform, though the Queen was not seated there. From the way the crowd was parted, he could only assume that she was on the dance floor.

He was tall enough that he had no trouble seeing over most of the crowd, and was pleased to see that he was, in fact, correct. Queen Ashe was going through the steps of a traditional Dalmascan dance, her eyes light and merry. Basch barely had to cast a glance at her partner, the look on her face said it all.

Balthier was, of course, the epitome of the perfect gentleman for the duration of the dance, and when the song ended, he raised the Queen's hand to his lips and bowed. The look that passed between Queen and Pirate when he straightened was easily missed by all but those who knew them best.

There was a time that Basch would have disapproved, but pirate or no, Balthier was a hero. And Ashe hadn't laughed like that in _years_. Basch was hard-pressed to find fault with the man who brought that out.

"He's showing off," a disapproving voice beside him sighed. Basch turned at the sound of the exotic-yet-familiar lilt. Fran gave him a smile -- or as much of a smile as Fran ever gave -- and said, "Do not worry. I won't give you away. You do not wish to be seen."

"Not by everyone, no," Basch confirmed. "I would speak with Ashe though. And …" He trailed off, not consciously having meant to add anything further.

"I will arrange it," Fran murmured. The she looked at him squarely. "_She_ will be pleased. She did not think you would come." Basch had the feeling that Fran no longer spoke of Ashe. She stepped away from the wall, and Basch noticed, for the first time, that the viera had donned a gown for the occasion. She turned to him, regarded him seriously for a long moment. "She dances soon. Will you see her after?"

Fran never ceased to amaze him with her intuition. The tone of her voice told him he had a choice. He could say "no", go back to his room at the inn after speaking with Ashe, and depart in the morning as planned. No one would say a word. _She_ would never know he'd been there.

Or, he could say "yes", and see the person whom his mind had seemed to wander to much too frequently these last two months. Even if it was just for a little while, he could _see_ her.

And if he could see her, he could reassure himself that she was just Penelo -- not _Penelo_ -- the very same girl he had spent months of his life with during the war. He could convince himself that she didn't smell like _home_, that she didn't remind him a happier, simpler time in his life. That his mind had exaggerated the details of her last visit. He knew he wouldn't be able to rest easy until he convinced himself of that fact. But he also lived in fear that seeing her again would only propagate that image of her.

Larsa loved her, wished to court her, perhaps even _marry_ her at some point. He'd been quite clear about that point. There was no doubt where Larsa's affections lie, and he did not keep them secret. And Basch was bound to honor his lord.

_Basch. Come to Rabanastre. Forget the fete, forget Larsa, or Judge Galheim, or even Ashe. Come to Rabanastre because I am asking you to. Please._

She had written those words. And while Penelo was known for her theatrics and exuberance, those words had meant so much to him.

They were the reason he was here. Guilt churned inside him. He would say no. He would not see her. He _couldn't_.

Fran noticed his vacillation and sighed. "You will tell Ashe when you speak, and if you wish to see _her_, Balthier will arrange it."

"I do not wish Lord Larsa to know I am here," Basch said, as if that excused his behavior.

"Do not worry," Fran said. "Whatever you decide, he will be none-the-wiser." With those words, Fran departed.

Twenty minutes later, Basch was sitting in an ornately-decorated, but seldom-used, antechamber, and Ashe swept into the room, shutting the door behind her soundly. He stood when she entered the room, and was mid-bow when she turned to him, her eyes glowing with warmth. "I am so glad you've come!" she said, embracing him without hesitation.

She felt sturdier in his arms, less skin-and-bones than the last time he had seen her -- gods, over a year ago. Life was being kind to her, and for that he was glad.

She pulled away and focused her eyes on his face, taking in all the differences. Sadness flickered over her face briefly as she noted the distinct lack of_Basch_ in him now. "Penelo told me it was short," she murmured, looking at his hair. She shook her head to clear away the musings, and smiled again. "We were so disappointed to hear you wouldn't be joining Larsa." She noticed the expression on his face. "Something is troubling you." It was a statement, not a query.

"I do not wish to discuss it at length right now," Basch said, suddenly tired. "But the judge that accompanied Lord Larsa -- I do not trust her."

Ashe merely nodded. "Penelo said you were being secretive. Basch." She looked at him, concern on her soft features. "Do you never rest? You worry too much, take on far too many responsibilities. You're but one man."

Basch had to laugh at that. "This, coming from _you_?"

Ashe's face broke into a wide grin. "All the more reason for you to listen to me!" Her face turned serious again. "Larsa's very fortunate, to have you looking out for him. I do hope he appreciates you."

"I will not resign my post," Basch said, his back instantly up. "Not even for you, Majesty."

Ashe placed her hand on his shoulder. "Be careful. That's all I ask. We Dalmascans -- well, those of us who know the truth, anyway -- consider you a national treasure, you know." There was a teasing glint in her eyes as she spoke.

Happiness. That's what it was. The difference in her. It suited her. "I am glad to see you happy, Majesty," he said as much.

Ashe's smile was brilliant then. "I'm glad to _be_ happy," she told him honestly. "Dalmasca is prospering, our foreign relations are spectacular, and as for _me_, personally, I am -- _he_ is -- oh, it's not important!" She laughed. "I'm Queen. I'm not supposed to think about _myself_ too much, am I?"

"It is perfectly acceptable to me," Basch said kindly. "But you needn't say more. I understand."

"Basch, I shan't say anything if you don't wish me to, but … will you see Penelo before you leave? She was so very disappointed. I do not wish to give you counsel in such matters, but it may perhaps be better if you_ didn't_ …"

"Is that what you think?" Basch interrupted, taken slightly aback.

Ashe shook her head. "You didn't let me finish! I said it may _be _better if you didn't. I didn't say you _shouldn't_." She regarded him. "You do wish to see her, don't you?"

"And that is why I will not," he said tiredly.

"I wish you would not torture yourself so. You _are _allowed to have friends. Everyone is entitled to at least that much."

Basch didn't reply. If Ashe had any idea the kinds of thoughts he'd had about that particular "friend", she would not speak so lightly.

There was a brief knock at the door, and then a familiar tawny head appeared. "Sorry to interrupt, but the dance troupe is awaiting the Queen's favor."

Ashe smiled. "Of course." She turned to Basch. "You will at least want to see her dance, yes? Do not follow me. Wait five minutes, and then sneak up to the second-floor gallery. You won't be seen from there."

Balthier held the door for Ashe, and then nodded in Basch's direction. "Fran will accompany you in the gallery. She despises these royal functions." He grinned.

"I thank you, both of you," Basch said earnestly.

Forty minutes later, Basch could only assume he had died and gone to his own personal hell. He should have left, gone back to the inn after seeing Ashe. He should _not_ have stayed.

He gripped the railing along the edge of the balcony so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The dance troupe was, of course, exceptional. He knew little about dancing, but he was sure that he'd just witnessed something extraordinary. He had forgotten that Dalmasca's and Archadia's ideas about "dancing" varied _greatly_. The Dalmascan drums had beat a slow, sensual rhythm that gradually gathered speed until it had become frenzied, and the dancers' movements matched the music. It was a dance he'd seen too many times to remember in his past, but it had never had this effect on him.

All the dancers were extremely talented, but he could see only _her_. She wore red, as the leader always did, to distinguish herself from the others, who wore blue. And as he watched her, all his ideas about Penelo, the_girl_ he'd traveled with during the war disappeared. There was nothing _childish_ about her any more. He would never be able to see her as such again.

The trousers of her costume rested snugly on her hips, demanding attention be paid. Until, of course, one looked up, to her midriff-baring shirt, spangled with hundreds of crystals that caught the light and refracted it in every which way, with the most concentrated area of crystals in the center of her chest, drawing all attention to her more-than-ample cleavage. It was impossible to miss these details even from his distance. Never before had he noticed the gentle curve of her hips, or the swell of her breasts. But now that they _were_ noticed … they'd never go _unnoticed_ again.

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, and wished like _hell_ that Fran was not standing just feet away from him right at this moment. He tried to tell himself that he was only thinking these thoughts, feeling these _feelings_, because it had been so long since he'd been with a woman. He felt disgusted at himself for using _that_ as an excuse for the things he was thinking. Ironically, though, his actual _thoughts_ did not disgust him in the least, though he knew they should.

The music finally drew to a close, and the crowd erupted in cheers and shouts. He opened his eyes then, only to see Larsa presenting Penelo with a bouquet of Tchita roses, the same shade as her costume. She smiled at him, and placed a kiss on his cheek, obviously thanking him for the gesture.

It was then that she looked up, seemingly right at him. Her eyes narrowed, like she was squinting. Basch immediately backed up into the shadows, cursing himself for standing so near the railing.

It was enough though, for him. He knew without a doubt … he had to see her. He turned to Fran.

Fran smirked at him before he could even say a word. "I will speak to Balthier," she said, amusement coloring her voice. "Wait here." And then she was gone.

---

Larsa was congratulating her, praising her, and she smiled, enjoying the attention. Dancing always brought her great joy and tonight was no exception. She had been nervous, at first, about the prospect of performing in front of so many people. But once the music had started and she had felt the rhythm flow through her, the rest had been easy.

She accepted the roses that Larsa handed her graciously, and kissed him swiftly. She smiled to herself as she saw the blush creep across his cheeks. He really _was _a sweet, wonderful boy. And no one had ever given her _roses_ before. In the din of all the voices, she took a moment to look around the crowded ballroom. Her eyes drifted up to the darkened balcony, and she gasped.

She would've _sworn_ that she saw a man there. A tall, handsome blond … but when she looked back, there was no one there. She told herself that she was just overly excited, and the adrenaline was playing tricks on her mind.

He wasn't here. He hadn't come. She felt foolish for holding onto the hope that he might. Larsa was speaking to her again, so she forced herself to pay attention to him.

"You are exhausted," he said kindly. "I can imagine that the dancing would wear one out quite quickly."

"Oh, no, I'm fine," she protested.

"I was going to inquire if you might join me for a late supper," Larsa continued. "I promise, Judge Galheim will not be there." He smiled conspiratorially. The judge had cited a sudden malady before the dancing had begun, and had excused herself for the evening. Penelo had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with _her_. She'd nearly fainted when Penelo had stopped to speak with them before her performance.

"Oh, Larsa," Penelo said, guilt creeping up. "I'm … sorry, but the other dancers and I, well, we're kind of supposed to go to the Sandsea. You know, to celebrate? It's been planned for a very long time. I kind of _have _to be there. You could … join us, if you like?"

"Oh, no, Penelo, that's quite all right," he said, his face falling. "I don't want to keep you from your friends. Please, have dinner with me tomorrow. I would like to talk to you about matters of some importance."

"O-Of course," Penelo said, her heart speeding up. Larsa's voice had an eager tone to it, one that caused Penelo to feel a melee of emotions. She'd be lying if she said that the attentions of an _emperor_ weren't flattering. But she'd _also_ be lying if she said that her feelings for him were anything _more_ than friendship.

And then, of course, there was the guilt. The horrible, gnawing feeling that she got whenever she saw that look in Larsa's eyes. Because she _knew_ the reason she wasn't feeling for him what he wanted her to feel. But she couldn't make herself _not_ feel that way.

It was good that he hadn't come. Seeing him now would only confuse her more, and gods knew, she didn't need that now.

"Penelo!" shouted one of the dancers from a short distance away. "Penelo, we're leaving!"

"Okay!" Penelo called back. "I'll be right there!" She turned to Larsa. "Thank you for the roses," she told him. "I will see you tomorrow. Have a good evening."

"Penelo," he said, taking her by the hand and pulling her back toward him. She turned to look at him, her eyes expectant. He leaned near her ear and whispered, "You dance beautifully."

She grinned, slightly embarrassed at his flattery, and that was when he leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers gently. Her eyes widened, and she couldn't figure out a nice way to pull away from him, so she just kept her lips together and waited for him to step back.

He grinned at her, and it was adorable and yet part of her wanted to run screaming from the room. She tried her best to smile back, and hoped it didn't look terribly fake. "Tomorrow, then," she said, her voice shaking.

"Have a good evening," Larsa said, feeling quite pleased with himself. He had agonized over that moment for nearly a month, and now that it was done, he quite looked forward to another one like it.

"Uh, yeah. You too!" And then she was gone.

She stepped out of the ballroom and hurried down the corridor, not sure if she would be able to get out of the palace fast enough. It suddenly seemed to be too small, too cramped, too _everything_.

_What_ was she going to do? Her mind was so full of that thought, that she didn't notice the hand that darted out from a darkened, unoccupied doorway until it was around her wrist, pulling her inside.

She squeaked in surprise at suddenly being in a darkened room with an unknown person, but then an oil lamp was lit, and she saw that it was just Fran. "Oh, my _gods_, Fran! Are you _trying_ to give me a heart attack?" she hissed at her. "What are you doing, anyway?" She looked around the now-illuminated room, which appeared to be some kind of office, and then froze.

Standing on the opposite side of the room, his back to her, stood Basch.

Fran set the lamp down on the end of the desk, and put her hand on Penelo's shoulder reassuringly, then left without a word, pulling the door shut behind her.

Basch turned around then, and she swore that she forgot how to breathe, at least for a few seconds. She couldn't think of anything else, not even _Larsa_, with him standing just _feet_ away from her. It was like a ton of bricks falling on her all at once. And she couldn't even find it in her to _care_ at that point.

"You came," she breathed. And without another thought in her mind, she crossed the room, threw her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips to his.

* * *

**A/N: **This chapter is RIDICULOUSLY LONG, I know. And I didn't WANT to stop it there, so I apologize for the evil cliffhanger. I'll have the next chapter out really soon, I promise! Enjoy this one, I like it the best of them all so far. :) 


	9. Eight: The Revelation

_**Chapter Eight**  
**The Revelation**_

She had only meant for the kiss to be a quick, perfunctory thing. Just a simple greeting, a way of letting him know, better than words could, how glad she was to see him again. Really, she greeted nearly _everyone_ this way, with a simple _smack_ of her lips against theirs. It had never caused any problems in the past.

So the fact that he actually _responded_ to her was completely unexpected. At first, she thought she might be imagining things; the adrenaline of the night was just playing tricks on her mind.

But no, she felt his hands splayed across the bare skin of her back, and his lips … _oh_, his lips. They were surprisingly soft, yet _insistent_. Almost -- greedy. Her eyes slid closed dreamily, her fingers found the hair at the back of his neck, and her lips parted before she even realized what she was doing. She felt a small sigh escape her mouth, and it was then that she became aware of what, _exactly_, was going on.

_She was kissing Basch!_

Her eyes flew open in shock, and she took several steps back, forcing him to release his hold on her. Her hand was over her mouth, and she was trying hard not to laugh hysterically. Really, the situation was _absurd. _She told herself that there was no way in Ivalice that that could have just happened. And yet … her heart was racing, and she felt excitement tingling throughout her body.

Kissing Basch had proven to be a bigger rush for her than _dancing_. Part of her wondered if he might kiss her again. She tried to push that ridiculous idea out of her mind, but had no luck. All she could think was that _he _had kissed _her _back. And not just a _little bit_, either.

There was something bubbling right under the surface within him … she wanted to know_ what _it was, and the feeling was almost _overwhelming_. The realization that she _wanted_ him suddenly crashed down on her, and she wasn't quite sure what to do with her newfound knowledge.

Basch, for his part, looked mortified. His face was as red as the material of her costume, and he seemed to be looking everywhere _but _at her. "My apologies," he muttered quickly, still not meeting her eyes.

Penelo shook her head, relieved that he had finally spoken and given her something _else _to think about.

"No, no, it was my fault. I shouldn't have … I mean, that was perhaps not the _best_ way to greet you. I forgot I wasn't just dealing with Vaan, or Tomaj, or someone like that. And I got carried away. I was just so happy to see you. I didn't even think about what I was doing."

"You needn't apologize," he said quietly. "You've done nothing wrong. You are … who you are. I should not have taken advantage of that fact. I hope you will forgive me."

Penelo laughed a little. "Forgive you for what?" she asked, trying to put herself into Basch's line of vision. When he looked at her, finally, she smiled brightly. "You don't owe me any apologies. And I'm really glad you're here."

"Are you? Even after …" Basch trailed off, feeling quite uncertain of the current situation.

Penelo giggled. "Oh, _especially _after," she teased him.

He thought he caught a glimmer in her eye that suggested she might be serious. She smiled at him then, and for a moment, he forgot what they'd been speaking about.

"How long are you staying?" she asked him then.

"I leave on the morrow," he replied, and for the first time, he felt a small twinge of regret at that fact. "I should not be here _now_, and I cannot risk being caught."

"By Judge Galheim?" Penelo questioned, the humor gone from her eyes in an instant.

"Aye," was all Basch said. "I needed to be sure that all was well, with Larsa. I had to see for myself."

Penelo's mouth formed a tight line then. "You came for Larsa … yet, you pulled me in here. You didn't _have_ to see me at all, you know!" She threw up her hands in frustration. "And Larsa is _fine_. Judge Galheim has been on _her _best behavior, really. If you'd just _tell me_ what is going on, you wouldn't have to make these obviously inconvenient and unnecessary trips!"

"Penelo," Basch said, his voice very calm. He'd forgotten how hotheaded Penelo could be … of course, during the war, her ire had mostly been directed in Vaan's direction. "Why can't you understand that there are some things that you're better off _not knowing_?"

She took a deep breath, and regarded him solemnly. "I can't shake this feeling that you're in some kind of trouble," she told him honestly. "I don't like it."

"It's nothing I can't handle. You needn't worry about me so much," Basch said, trying to make his voice reassuring. "Will you trust me, when I tell you that there's no reason for you to worry?"

Penelo rolled her eyes and blew out an exasperated breath. "Of course," she sighed. "I trust you the _most_, don't you know that? So you better not get hurt!"

He laughed then. "I shall try my utmost to remain unscathed," he said gallantly, raising her hand to his lips.

Penelo inhaled sharply the second his lips met her skin, and then there was silence. It wasn't the normal, easy silence that they had shared so many times during the course of their journey together. This was a heavy silence, the kind of silence that rolled in and settled like a fog.

Neither of them made any move to let go of the other, and Basch made the mistake of raising his eyes to look at her face. She was chewing her bottom lip nervously, and suddenly he _knew_, just as she did.

Penelo felt her heart beat speed up until it was almost _painfully_ hammering away in her chest. His face was now just _inches _from her own, every breath she drew was him. She closed her eyes, anticipation making her weak in the knees.

His hands wrapped around her wrists, and he pulled her closer, letting his lips brushed hers then, so gently that it almost hurt. She closed her eyes to it, just allowing the feelings to wash over her. He deepened the kiss then, releasing her wrists and crushing her body against his, and she grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him nearer. "Basch," she whispered against his lips.

Then, just as quickly as he had started, he pushed her away. "This is wrong," he said, frustration in his voice, and with those words, the spell was broken.

She opened her eyes, found they were still hazy with want. "I know," she answered sadly. "I know it is. I don't care."

"I _must_ care," Basch said, his voice rough. "My life is not my own."

Penelo glared. "Only because that's what _you _chose for yourself!" she said angrily. "You are a _hero_, damn it. You could have _anything _you wanted, and yet you _choose_ to shoulder everyone else's burdens."

"It's not that simple, Penelo," he said, his voice tired. "You do not understand."

"You're right, I don't. And you won't _explain _it to me. I'm not a child, Basch. You know that. You act like I need to be protected, but really, you should be letting me _help_ you. Why are you_ here_, Basch?"

"I told you," he said, confused by her sudden change of topic, "because I needed to make sure my lord was safe."

Penelo shook her head, trying to keep the tears that threatened from overflowing. _Ashe _would never cry in such a situation. "You're lying. You're _lying_. And I'm leaving. Since it is apparently _wrong_ for me to be here." She turned on her heel then and made for the door.

"Penelo," he said, grabbing her by the wrist and turning her around to face him.

She broke free from his grasp, shaking her head. "No," was all she said, but the word was like a slap in the face to him. And then she was gone.

* * *

**A/N: **Well, there you go. Considerably shorter than the last chapter, sorry. And full of ANGST. These two, I swear. I'm ready to beat them up, and _I'm _the one writing this nonsense! More to come very soon! Thanks to everyone who's been reading this so far, doing this for you :) And, also. I HATE the way formatting on this site works, so if you see two words that are smushed together, please let me know, so I can _fix them_. Irritating :p 


	10. Nine: The Clarity

_**Chapter Nine**  
**The Clarity**_

Penelo's blood was boiling when she walked toward the Sandsea Tavern. What was wrong with _men_? First there were the ones that were _supposed _to be your friends, but who went and did the _stupidest _things. What had Larsa even been _thinking_? He'd kissed her, in the middle of the _ballroom_, where hundreds of people had been milling around. Rumors were going to start. Did he not think about these things _at all_? Word was _going _to get back to Judge Galheim.

And to Basch.

Her mind had been circling around _that _particular topic since she'd run away from him. And she'd tried to avoid thinking about him, but she couldn't any more. Half of her had hoped he would follow her, though she knew that was stupid, silly, and just … immature. He couldn't risk himself like that … and he'd already risked an awful lot by being in Rabanastre at all.

She slowed her walk, not wanting to be amid the crowd at the tavern quite yet. She needed to a few minutes to get her thoughts in order; needed to calm down a bit. And that meant she needed to figure out _why_ she was so angry with him. _She _had been the one who had kissed him. Just because he had kissed back … it didn't _mean_ anything. She took him by surprise, he was acting on instinct … there were many explanations, good ones. But only for the _first _kiss.

There was no getting around the fact that _he_ had initiated the second kiss. And it had been … Penelo stopped and leaned back against one of the brick pillars in front of Migelo's shop, closing her eyes briefly. She'd been kissed before, many, many times. But never in her life had anyone kissed her like Basch had kissed her. And she'd never wanted anything quite so badly in her life, as she'd wanted _him_, in that moment.

That kiss had changed _everything_ for her. Inexplicably, he had gone from being Basch to being … well, _Basch_. That wasn't the issue, though. The problem was that now, to her, she knew she'd never be able to stop thinking of him like that, and that … well, that could complicate a lot of things. Things like Emperors, and duties, and, well, _whole lives_.

And there it was. With perfect clarity, she understood why she was so angry. Because he'd rejected her. He'd weighed his options -- that's what the second kiss was about, obviously -- and ultimately, had chosen his duty and honor over a poor, orphaned dancing girl from Rabanastre. So she wasn't angry at all, then.

She was _humiliated_. She made it _so damn easy_ for him, too. Penelo, wearing her heart on her sleeve again, letting him see _just _what she was feeling. Damn him. He shouldn't have kissed her like that if he didn't mean it at all. She hadn't ever thought that Basch was_cruel_, until now.

She considered turning around and going to her apartment in Lowtown, but she couldn't let the troupe down like that. And besides. She really needed a drink.

* * *

Penelo woke up the next morning with the worst headache of her life. The dim light in her bedroom was enough to make her wince, and she groaned as she rolled out of bed and made her way to the kitchen.

Vaan was sitting at the table. "Remind me _not_ to go out drinking with them _ever again_," she mumbled. The memories of the previous evening after she'd left Basch and arrived at the Sandsea were fuzzy, at best.

But she remembered Madhu. A _lot_ of Madhu. She wasn't even sure how they'd gotten Madhu in Rabanastre, any way. Someone had to have brought it in from Bhujerba.

"You look terrible," Vaan said cheerfully. "The hell'd you drink last night? You didn't drink the Madhu Balthier brought, did you?"

Penelo shot him a scathing look. Of _course_ it was the damn pirate. And he _knew_ she couldn't tolerate that stuff. But if she recalled correctly -- and she very well might not be -- he'd been the one pouring her cup after cup of the stuff. And she'd talked to him for a very long time, she remembered that much. Oh, gods. Had she told him about kissing Basch? Oh, gods,_ what_ had she told him? He probably ran and told Ashe all about it, too. Oh, this just made her life_perfect_.She dropped her face into her hands and moaned.

"Penelo?" Vaan asked carefully.

"What are you_doing _here, anyway?" she asked him from behind her hands.

"Aside from the fact that I _live_ here, you mean?" Vaan asked.

"I thought you'd be out by now, that's all," she said snappishly, glaring at him.

"Cranky," Vaan remarked. "I was going to, but then a messenger from the palace showed up, with this. Said it was important that you got it. So I waited."

Penelo arched her eyebrow. "Why didn't you wake me up?" she asked him.

"I was going to, but you were talking in your sleep. Actually, it was more like you were_ yelling_ at someone. And I didn't want to get involved. I get yelled at by you enough when you're _awake_."

Penelo's eyes widened. "I was yelling? Did I -- what did I say?"

Vaan looked at her, his brow furrowed. "I don't know. Something about someone being a self-righteous bastard, I think."

Penelo laughed uncomfortably. "Guess it was just some weird dream." She held out her hand. "What did the messenger bring?"

Vaan handed her the envelope. Penelo was amazed to see that it was actually still sealed. "You didn't read it?"

"I'm not _five_, Penelo. It's addressed to you." Vaan rolled his eyes.

Penelo sighed and opened the letter. "It's from Larsa," she said, her stomach knotting up a little bit. She read on, her eyes widening as she did. "Oh, no!" she cried. "Oh, no, no, no, _no_!"

"What's wrong?" Vaan asked, standing up and trying to read over her shoulder.

"I was supposed to have lunch with Larsa today … but Judge Galheim is insisting that they leave this morning."

"Oh, that's too bad," Vaan said, not really sure why this news was sending his friend into near-hysterics.

"No, you don't understand!" she cried. "_Basch_ is here, but no one's supposed to know. And _he's _supposed to leave this morning … but … there's no way the public airships will make it back to Archades before Larsa's does!"

"If no one's supposed to know, then why do _you_ know?" Vaan asked.

"Vaan!" Penelo snapped. "That doesn't matter! What matters is … getting to the aerodrome before he gets on that stupid airship. Because if he's not at Solidor Manse when they get back … it'll be bad. Just trust me, okay? Your airship isn't fast enough. Don't get all cranky and defensive about it now," she said when she saw the expression on his face, "it just _isn't_. Go to the palace and get Balthier and meet me in the aerodrome in _twenty minutes_. I am _not _kidding."

She ran back to her room and threw on the first outfit she came across, and then hurried out and into the busy Lowtown streets. She pushed her way through the crowd and made her way up the steps to the streets of Rabanastre.

The desert morning was already blazingly hot, but Penelo scarcely noticed as she raced through the streets. She didn't really care if people were staring at her. She wasn't even sure that Basch _hadn't_ left yet, but if he hadshe only hoped it had been hours earlier. If not, well, then, she hoped to catch him before he boarded the airship. And then the Strahl would get him home in _plenty _of time.

She reached the aerodrome in what she was sure was record time, and stepped inside the cool interior, feeling nauseous from her hangover, the heat, and her exertion combined. "Oh, I'm going to _kill_ Balthier," she groaned as her stomach flipped. She steadied herself against the wall, praying that she wouldn't be sick here.

She quickly took in her surroundings, and was glad that the aerodrome did not appear to be very busy this morning. Too many people recovering from the fete last night, she was sure. Which is what she would have _liked_ to be doing, truth be told.

She wished she didn't care so much, but she couldn't risk Basch getting into some kind of trouble. More trouble than he was _already_ in, of course. He wouldn't tell her … but things were very very wrong in Archades. And it was really _her _fault that he was in Rabanastre to begin with. She still wasn't sure that she bought the excuse about him being in Dalmasca because of Larsa. Not entirely, anyway. But she also knew that he hadn't come for _her_, either.

She shook her head in exasperation, and grimaced as the motion caused a new wave of queasiness to wash over her. She didn't have time to be worrying about all that now. She had an Judge Magister's ass to save.

At that moment, she saw Larsa and Judge Galheim enter the aerodrome. Her eyes widened and she quickly dove behind the row of benches near the entrance to hide herself from their view. She just couldn't answer questions this morning about why she was here. The only good news was that if Basch had already left, he might make it back to Archades in time.

He entered the aerodrome five minutes later. Penelo darted out from her hiding spot, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him back down behind the benches with her.

"Penelo, what is going on?" he asked her, concern all over his face and in his voice. "Are you all right?"

Penelo felt all the anger and embarrassment from the previous evening fading away at the uneasy tone in his voice. He was truly worried. About _her_.

"Shh," she said, smiling a little. "I'm fine."

"Then what …?"

"I'm really sorry about this. But Larsa and Judge Galheim are here, _right now_. Getting ready to head back to Archades." She pointed, and she watched the color drain out of Basch's face as he confirmed this fact. The expression on his face chilled her.

Gods, she _wished_ he would tell her what was wrong. He looked genuinely _afraid_. And Basch wasn't a man who was given to fear.

"I … I won't make it back to Archades before they do," he said slowly, as though he were contemplating his options.

"Yes, you will. Vaan has gone to get Balthier, and they'll be here soon. The Strahl will get you home in plenty of time," Penelo told him firmly. She closed her eyes as the newest wave of nausea rolled over her.

"You're ill," Basch said, scrutinizing her carefully. She looked very pale today, and there were circles under her eyes.

"Completely self-afflicted," she told him, trying to keep her tone light. "Actually, that's a lie. Completely _Balthier_-inflicted. He brought Madhu to the Sandsea last night. Guess he thought I needed it." She looked up then, and her eyes met his.

Neither one of them could bring themselves to look away, and Penelo found herself leaning forward. His mouth was only inches from hers, and for a moment, they were sharing the same breath. Electricity crackled in the air, mixing with anticipation, and Penelo waited, afraid to close that last little bit of distance between them, wanting _him _to do it, to prove that she was wrong about him.

Instead, he cleared his throat and sat back. "About last night," he said. "I would apologize."

Penelo exhaled in frustration and shook her head. "Basch, don't do this. Just … I'm embarrassed enough, okay? Don't make it worse."

"Embarrassed?" he asked, genuinely puzzled. "You've nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Oh, really?" she retorted. "Rejection is a humiliating experience, if you didn't know," she said coldly, not looking at him.

"Penelo." Basch's voice was pained.

"It's okay, Basch. I understand. And I'm not mad. I just don't want to talk about it any more. It happened. It was a stupid thing, and it's _not_ going to happen again. End of discussion," Penelo hoped her eyes didn't betray what she was saying.

She looked up and saw Vaan entering the aerodrome with Balthier and Fran right behind him. "They're here. I'm going to go distract Larsa while they get you to the Strahl."

"Penelo." Basch's voice was firmer now. His hand wrapped around her wrist before she could stand up. "I did not reject you. I don't have that luxury. I've told you, my life is not …"

Penelo shook her head in frustration. "Your own. I know, I heard you last night. Just don't," she said quietly. "It doesn't make things better." She stood up then, and made her way to the other side of the aerodrome, where Larsa and Judge Galheim waited.

"Penelo!" Larsa said, his face lighting up.

Penelo smiled. "I came to see you off. I'm very sorry we couldn't have lunch today, as planned. Can you sit for awhile, at least?"

"I'm afraid not," Judge Galheim cut in. "We must be getting back to Archades with all haste. There's been some urgent state business that has popped up, you know."

"Of course," Penelo said, forcing herself to remain civil.

"You will come to Archades next month, won't you? For my birthday?" Larsa asked then.

Penelo turned her attention back to him. "I wouldn't miss it."

"Well, then," Judge Galheim said. "It looks like the airship is ready, my lord. Shall we be off?" She turned to Penelo. "And I suppose we shall see _you _next month."

"I look forward to it," Penelo replied as Judge Galheim made her way to the private hangar where all diplomatic guests docked their airships.

Penelo turned to embrace Larsa then, and was once again taken by surprise when he pressed his lips to hers. It was a quicker, gentler kiss than the one last night had been -- but just as sudden and unbidden. And when her eyes flashed up, she caught sight of Basch as he entered Hangar Two, where the Strahl was docked.

He was looking right at them, and he saw the whole thing. Penelo didn't even have a chance to read his expression, because he was gone.

"There is much we must discuss when next we meet," Larsa whispered in her ear before pulling away.

Penelo could only nod. She tore her eyes away from the spot where Basch had been standing and looked back at Larsa. "Y-yes, of course," she said, and her voice sounded hollow to her. She hoped that Larsa didn't notice. She waited until she was sure that they were in the hangar and therefore, out of sight, before she sank down to the floor in front of a large pile of luggage.

What a perfectly fine _mess_ this was.


End file.
